


take a picture, it'll last longer

by sanctimonials



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Getting Together, M/M, this is an ode to the disposable camera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctimonials/pseuds/sanctimonials
Summary: For the past week, Ted took pictures of everything and anything. The garage, their most excellent instruments and set-up, the princesses, and Bill. And Bill. And Bill...and Bill...Ted felt his stomach drop into ice water as he hung another photo to dry on the rack. ”No way...this is most distressing.”The teen stared at the wall of photos with large, panicked eyes and he broke out in a thin sweat despite the mall air conditioning. And what stared back at him, with cherub curls and blue eyes, were countless photos of his best friend and bandmate.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan & Bill S. Preston Esq., Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 142





	take a picture, it'll last longer

**Author's Note:**

> a small content warning: the f slur is implied, but not explicitly used in this fic! if that bothers you, it's right after the line: "You're just realizing some things, is all."

Summer jobs were never fun. Ask Ted “Theodore” Logan, who, in his short but wondrously strange and varied life, has had the pleasure of working in almost every retail establishment in the San Dimas mall. From Baskin-Robbins to Oshman’s, Ted amassed a sizable collection of name-tags and uniforms along with awful memories of rude patrons and bogus swing shifts. After his third summer job doing menial tasks and getting paid minimum wage, all while whack Top 40 hits played nonstop over the speakers, Ted figured that finding a job he actually enjoyed was impossible. But, like about most things in his life, Ted was proven wrong. 

“Teddy, can you get the developing fluid for me? Make sure those chemicals don’t touch you, though, dear, they’re dangerous,” asked Anne Higley, the woman who ran the small family-owned photography and developing business on the floor level of the mall. She was a stout woman with tight, greying curls, an affinity for loud, printed cardigans, and a voice that sounded like lullabies. Ted adored her. 

To be honest, Ted adored working at Higley’s Memory Makers, a job he had gotten by pure luck at the beginning of summer. At first, he was sure he’d be a victim of another summer of working the register and staring blankly at customers but Anne, upon seeing he was a sprightly and healthy young man, put Ted in charge of developing film. While she manned the cashier and photographed everything from almost-to-be-newlyweds to newborns, Ted found himself amongst gnarly smelling chemicals in the dark as he developed roll after roll of photos. 

The teen found himself developing everything from dingy, disposable Kodak single-use cameras to high-priced, top-quality film. And, most shocking of all, Ted found himself enjoying the work. Developing film was science as much as it was art and, in the strangest turn of events, Ted picked it up like a duck to water. In school, he barely passed basic chemistry. But in the darkroom everything made sense, and Ted wasn’t about to question why. Learning to develop film was also a good trade skill, something that even Captain Logan found respectable. (But it was something that confused Ted. What could be traded with these skills? Not Garbage Pail Kids cards, that’s for sure.)

However, it wasn’t only the work Ted enjoyed. He also enjoyed looking at the content of the photos he developed. They were glimpses into everyday life in San Dimas. Dinner parties with large families who were all smiles; days at the beach with sunburned skin that looked even brighter on photo-stock; kids lounging in living rooms, watching cartoons, and playing games. These snapshots were intimate and personal to each and every patron, and Ted loved and cherished these glimpses into the soft heart of San Dimas. And today, he was going to develop his photos.

“Sure thing, Mrs. H!” Ted eagerly grabbed one of the heavy jugs. 

“In a hurry, Teddy?” Anne chuckled, watching as Ted lugged jug after jug of chemicals with a gusto that was new for the usually dopey teen.

“Oh, heh, sorry Mrs. H,” Ted said with a sheepish smile. “I just really wanted to get to developing today. I have been making some truly admirable strides in my learnings.”

“No need to apologize, dear, I’m just joshing with you.” Anne gave him a reassuring smile. “We have a couple of appointments today, but I’ll be able to handle those on my own. You can do what needs to be done in the darkroom and then continue making your strides.” She pinched Ted’s cheek with motherly warmth, making Ted flush from the sweet gesture. “Wedding season is coming up, and your learning is only gonna help me. Lord knows I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

Ted nodded enthusiastically. “You got it, your most excellent photographer, uh, honor.”

Anne shook her head with another amused chuckle and a dismissive wave of her hand. With that, Ted scrambled to the back to get what needed to be done. His duties went by like a breeze and soon, Ted had all of the rolls hanging to dry and several packages of pictures ready for pick-up. All that was left was his own pictures. 

The negatives were from a small Fuji Film knockoff camera he got from the Circle K, bought on a whim one night when he and Bill were at the convenience store buying snacks. At first, the small camera collected dust on Ted’s dresser; Captain Logan and Deacon weren’t the types of people who liked to be photographed on a whim. All of the photos in the Logan household were professionally taken, with artificial light and even more artificial smiles. Ted couldn’t imagine his dad would make an exception just because Ted had an interest in the art form.

And so, the camera had stayed there until Bill caught sight of it on a rare sleepover at the Logan household.

“Dude, you still got that thing?” Bill asked as he picked the small camera up. His brows furrowed as he inspected the roll number. “It’s still full? You haven’t taken a picture yet?”

“Nah, you know Captain Logan and Deacon are total bummers. They do not appreciate my many artistic endeavors.”

“Bogus…” Bill had muttered as he fiddled with the roll wheel. Ted figured that was the end of that conversation, but Bill’s face suddenly lit up. “Ted, we’re such boneheads. You can take pictures of the band! It’ll be a most excellent crossover of your two talents! Who knows—maybe we can get a poster out of one of the pictures.”

“Bill, you are truly a genius among men!” Ted beamed, taking the camera from his friend. As he lifted the viewfinder to his eye, his heart did a silly flip at what he saw through the small lens: Bill was lit by the San Dimas sunset that was streaming in from Ted’s window. Bill’s face was lightly flushed, almost impossible to see from the tan he had gotten over the summer, his sleepy-blue eyes flecked with Californian gold. Almost on instinct, Ted took the shot, the urge to preserve the moment too strong.

“Ugh, dude, my eyes!” Bill exclaimed as the flash blinded him for a second. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm with a pout. “If you blinded me, dude, I’m gonna sue you for reparations.”

“Yeah, right, dude, as if,” Ted snorted. He made a mental note to look up “reparations” in the dictionary later. 

“Ok, I won’t but I’d make sure you’ll take care of me,” Bill insisted and Ted had ignored how warm the idea of taking care of Bill made him feel and, instead, took another picture, this time with a fair warning.

For the rest of the week, Ted took pictures of everything and anything. The garage, their most excellent instruments and set-up, the princesses, and Bill. And Bill. And Bill...and Bill...

Ted felt his stomach drop into ice water as he hung another photo to dry on the rack. ”No way...this is most distressing.”

The teen stared at the wall of photos with large, panicked eyes and he broke out in a thin sweat despite the mall air conditioning. And what stared back at him, with cherub curls and blue eyes, were countless photos of his best friend and bandmate.

Ted knew he had taken a lot of pictures of Bill. It was almost impossible for him not to; the two teens spent every waking moment together, satelliting each other like twin stars. It only made sense to Ted that his camera’s film roll would be filled with photos of his best friend. But these photos didn’t feel like friends dicking around or having a laugh. Instead, they felt like something more.

Not that long ago, Ted had developed a disposable camera for a young couple. The roll was filled with intimate snapshots, like the woman on their bed in the early morning light, still sleeping; the man laughing wholeheartedly at something just beyond the viewfinder; an out-of-focus picture of both of them, sharing a kiss. It had flustered Ted and when the couple came to pick-up their photos, he could barely look them in the eyes. 

The pictures of Bill flustered Ted just like the couple’s photos did. They were intimate still frames of Bill laughing, Bill concentrating on his guitar with his tongue sticking out from between his lips, Bill smiling goofily, Bill napping in Ted’s room with candy wrappers and cassettes strewn around him. The glossy photo stock dulled the color of Bill’s golden curls and the brightness of his eyes but the emotion behind each picture shined through. It was a lot to take in and it forced Ted to realize something he really rather not. 

“Teddy, dear, I’m closing up in a bit. Are you done—my goodness, who’s this?” Anne stopped short just behind Ted, taking in the wall of Bill S. Preston, Esquire. Panic shot through him as she gently touched a photo. “Well, isn’t he a looker?”

Ted was sure he couldn’t flush any hotter, but his face did its best impression of a neon sign. And what his face said was all Anne needed to know. Her own face gentled and she laid a hand on Ted’s tense shoulder. “You alright there, hon?”

Tears were forming at the corner of Ted’s eyes and his throat closed up. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the emotion there, and croaked, “Afraid not, Mrs. H.”

“Alright, that’s ok,” she said, giving Ted’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Guess it has to do with blondie on the wall, huh?”

Ted bit at his bottom lip before giving a small, hesitant nod. 

“Mind telling me who he is?”

“Um, my friend. My best friend, Bill. We play in a band together.”

“Didn’t know you could play an instrument,” Anne said, mildly impressed. Ted decided to withhold the fact that he meant “play” as in “have fun”, and not “play” as in “cultivating talent”. He figured that information wasn’t important and Anne didn’t press more. Instead, she looked back at the pictures, taking them all in again. “You two seem close.”

“I guess...it doesn’t look that way to me,” Ted muttered. 

“Hm? No?” Anne raised an eyebrow. “What does it look like to you?”

“Like I’m a certified psycho stalker!” Ted bemoaned as he flopped into a nearby chair. He covered his face with his hands and let out a groan. He could feel hot tears streaking down his face. “This is most non- _non_ -heinous, Mrs. H! Bill’s gonna think I’m a total freak!”

“Oh, Teddy, come now. Hush,” Anne told Ted, pulling his hands away from his face. With a soft coo, she wiped the wetness off his cheeks with the sleeve of her cardigan. “Stop that, alright? No more crying. You’re just realizing some things, is all.”

Ted grimaced, knowing exactly what he was realizing, and he spat out, “That I’m a total f—”

“Now, don’t you say that word, you know how I feel about it!” Anne exclaimed with a back-handed slap to Ted’s knee and Ted apologized, shamefully hanging his head. “What an awful word. I know you don’t know any better but think about it. Would it be so awful to love this boy?” 

Ted opened his mouth to say it would but he couldn’t get out the words. Instead, he thought, would it be awful to love Bill? When he and Elizabeth were together their relationship felt like a chore; as much as Ted loved spending time with the princess, he always found himself wishing he was with Bill instead, playing Atari or listening to the latest albums they had bought. But with Bill, nothing felt like a chore, even when they were doing chores. It was as easy as breathing and as electrifying as a newly written chord. 

Ted shook his head. “No, I guess not...But he can’t know. I can’t tell him, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Teddy, no one’s telling anybody anything,” Anne promised, giving Ted’s shoulder another reassuring squeeze. “You say it when you’re ready, alright? Now, let me help you take down these pictures. We’re well past closing, now.”

“Oh, crap, Mrs. H! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you—and I’ve got practice! I’m dead!”

“No worries, dear, let’s get you out of here.”

Ted nodded and, together, they cleared the rack, placing each precious memory and the film roll into a flimsy paper envelope that Ted shoved into his backpack. “Catch you later, Mrs. H!” Ted said as he ran out, his backpack jostling behind him. 

“Teddy! Your backpack is...”

But Ted didn’t catch the last of Anne’s sentence as he booked it out of the small shop and mall. He made it to the Preston household’s garage over ten minutes late. 

“Dude! You’re most tardy tonight,” Bill exclaimed as Ted came to a stop on his skateboard, and stepped on the edge of the deck to pick it up. 

“Sorry, guys, I got held up with Mrs. H. Let me grab my ax and we can start our jam session!”

Without a second thought, Ted reached his hand into his already opened backpack to grab a pick and threw his bag and skateboard haphazardly onto the worn couch in the corner of the garage. He paid it no mind as it tipped over onto the floor, his focus solely on getting his set-up ready. By the time he remembered his precious and incriminating photos that were tucked inside his bag, it was too late. Ted could only stare in horror as the photos spilled out of his backpack and scattered across the garage floor. The air became still as everyone took in every glossy, full-color shot of Bill. Ted wished the floor would open up and gobble him down. 

“Uh, I can explain,” he said, knowing damn well this was all beyond explanation. 

“Princesses? Could you please leave me and my esteemed colleague so we may have a private meeting?” Bill asked, turning to Joanna and Elizabeth with expectant eyes. 

“Oh! Um, yes, of course,” Elizabeth nodded, grabbing her sister from where she was bent, examining a photo of Bill at the pool, water droplets like diamonds on his summer tan skin. 

Ted, even in his deep mortification, hoped her fingerprints wouldn’t stay on the glossy stock.

The princess hurried out of the garage and Bill clanged the door shut behind them. As Bill took his guitar off to place it on its stand, Ted prepared himself for an ass-kicking.

“Ted, is there something you want to tell me?”

“No,” Ted lied, vehemently shaking his head so Bill couldn’t see how guilty he looked. 

“Dude, you know you suck at lying.”

Ted stopped shaking his head and looked down at his scuffed sneakers. “I know,” he admitted, toeing the ground. 

“Dude, c’mon, you can tell me anything,” Bill gently pressed and Ted shook his head again. Bill’s brows furrowed. “Bogus...well, what about these pictures? I thought you were taking pictures of the band.”

“I was but then I just wanted to take pictures of you...” Ted bit his lip. He wanted to keep his feelings a secret but, with his pictures of Bill fanned out all around them, it was nearly impossible. As Bill said, he was always a bad liar. With a deep breath, Ted lifted his chin and looked at his best friend right in the eyes. “Bill, what I’m about to say is probably going to freak you out and is most unprecedented and is really scary to say, but I’m just going to say it. I like you more than just as a best friend.” 

“Oh, like a business partner?”

“No, more intimate, dude.”

“Oh...like a brother?”

“He likes you romantically, dummy!” Hissed a voice with a distinct British lilt from just beyond the garage door. It was followed by a yelp, and a series of ouches, and other hushed noises of pain. 

“As Jo said, it’s arduous in nature,” Ted said.

Bill squinted at Ted, confused. “I think you mean amorous, dude.”

“That, too,” Ted nodded. 

“Whoa...so these pictures?”

“I think they just made me realize I have a thing for you, dude. I think I always have.” Ted lowered his head, all of his confidence leaving him as his bashfulness took over. 

The pair stood in silence. They couldn’t meet each other’s eyes and, for the first time, Ted felt awkward next to Bill. He felt all at once too tall and too small, and he began to break out into a cold sweat again. Was he imposing his feelings on Bill? Would they never have a sleepover again? Would Bill make him give him his Metallica and Mercyful Fate records and cassettes back? Ted was about to rescind his confession, and play it off as a joke when Bill suddenly cleared his throat. 

“I, uh, got something to say, too,” Bill said. Anxiety lodged itself in Ted’s throat, making it hard to swallow or breathe. But he kept his face as neutral as he could as Bill continued. “The princesses and I have been talking about my, uh, own preferences for a while. And I’ve been thinking about telling you this for the longest time but the right time never came. And now with these pictures and, with you telling me how you feel, I feel like a total ass stealing your thunder.” 

Ted nodded as Bill rambled but when his friend didn’t continue, Ted admitted with a nervous smile, “Dude, I don’t get what you’re saying.”

“What he means is he likes you back, Theodore! Ow, Elizabeth—that pinch _hurt_!” 

“Let them talk, Joanna!”

Bill chuckled exasperatedly. “What Jo said. I like you back, dude. We’re totally on the same page here.”

“ _Whoa_...excellent!”

With beaming smiles on both of their faces, the duo air-guitared happily. 

“Does that mean we’re like...together now?” Ted nervously asked.

“Uh, I didn’t think that far.” Bill’s brows furrowed in thought. “I guess so.”

“Excellent,” Ted smiled, nodding happily. Another question niggled at the back of his mind. But before he could ask, Bill beat him to the punch. 

“If it’s not too forward of a request...can I kiss you, dude? I’ve kind of been wanting to for the longest time...”

Ted’s eyes widened. “Like, for real?”

“Dude, of course for real.”

“Yeah, I, uh....yeah, you can, that’s cool.”

With a nervous nod, Bill took a step closer to Ted, and gently pulled at Ted’s shirt. Taking the hint, Ted lowered himself a little into Bill’s space. He could smell the sweetness of Coke and gummy worms on Bill’s breath, and the lingering scent of soap and sun on his skin. They stood like that for a while, just breathing each other in.

“Dude, are you gonna—“ Ted started to ask after a solid minute passed, but was cut off by Bill finally leaning in and pressing their lips together. It was a chaste kiss, close-lipped and quick, but it made Ted’s brain melt anyway. Bill pulled away after a criminally short time, and Ted breathed out an awed, “Whoa...” before Bill, impatient as always, grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him back in. 

Just as their kiss was getting deeper, there was a flash of bright light, and the familiar cranking sound of a disposable camera filled the garage. Bill and Ted pulled away from each other to see the princesses giggling as Joanna rolled the film to take another picture. “We just wanted to capture how happy you two look!”

“Now, if you’re both done playing, as you modern Americans say, ‘tonsil hockey’, may we continue our practice? That song is not going to write itself,” Elizabeth teased with a smile on her face. Her teasing smile only grew as Bill and Ted embarrassedly shuffled around, trying to grab their instruments while avoiding eye contact with each other. Joanna took another picture, hoping she caught the full color of the blush on both of their faces.

That night, after a truly excellent jam session, Ted took as many pictures of Bill as he could between their conversations and make-outs. And Bill smiled for each one. 

* * *

“Hey, Mrs. H, is Ted here?”

Anne looked up from where she was counting the register money for the day to see a cherub-looking young man with captivating blue eyes. She recognized him instantly. “Bill?”

“S. Preston, Esquire, ma’am. I see my reputation proceeds me.”

“It sure does, dear,” Anne chuckled. “Ted’s in the back. He should be out in a minute.”

A minute became a second, as Ted rushed out from the darkroom, no doubt hearing Bill’s voice. At the sight of Bill, his face lit up and his smile widened. “Coming right now, dude, I just gotta finish up.”

“No worries, Teddy, I’ll handle it,” Anne said. 

“Are you sure, Mrs. H? I don’t wanna skimp out on my most important duties.”

“It’s just packaging a few pictures, Ted, don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Anne insisted. “Go and have fun while you’re still young.”

With that, Ted went and grabbed his backpack, and lept over the counter. But before he could leave, he ran back around the counter and gave Anne a bone-crushing hug. “See you tomorrow, Mrs. H.”

Anne could only stare, dumbfounded but touched, as Ted ran around the counter again and left with Bill, both of them talking enthusiastically and excitedly to each other. Anne, so distracted by Ted’s sudden gesture, almost missed Bill as slipped his hand into Ted’s and interlocked their fingers.

With a proud smile, Anne went to the back, only to find that Ted had finished his duties. Grabbing the packaged photos for their pick-up tomorrow, Anne spied a single photo hanging on the drying rack. As she went to take it off, ready to see which package it belonged to, Anne let out a warm, happy laugh as she examined the photo. There, in its glossy stock and muted, sepia-toned colors, was Bill and Ted sharing a kiss. And, on the back, written in Ted’s chicken-scratch, was the message, “Thanks, Mrs. H.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this fic that's just literally Ted being like, "I don't have a crush on Bill..." _[trips and drops hundreds of photos of Bill everywhere]_!  
> if you did, please drop a comment and some kudos. i'd really appreciate it.
> 
> also, this fic?? has fanart??? i’m just so honored, please check out this AMAZING work by kbgw1234 !! and if you want to talk about Bill and Ted, or just about anything really, i'm on tumblr at [kunstlich](https://kunstlich.tumblr.com/) and on twitter at [angieb_works](https://twitter.com/angieb_works)!


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